


Bruises

by RobinTheArtist



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: Abuse, M/M, Sappy Ending, Self Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-15
Updated: 2013-06-15
Packaged: 2017-12-15 02:25:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/844233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RobinTheArtist/pseuds/RobinTheArtist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You smile at Nico, and he smiles back. It makes you feel warm, and you can't be bothered to explain why.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bruises

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, no idea why I wrote this. Whatever, enjoy!

Bruises

He's an absolute mess. 

He has brusies on his wrists he doesn't bother cover. They're on his neck to, and he displays them like he's fucking proud. 

 

Someone grabbed his arm in class, and he didn't even flinch. He looked at them almost expectantly. The person just pushed him and walked away. 

 

He doesn't hide the cuts either. He'll even roll up his sleeves. He acts like he doesn't care. But sometimes, when you look him in the eyes, you can see him begging for help. 

He just doesn't know how to ask for it. 

 

You find him in the bathroom one day, leaning against the wall, blood pouring from a cut on his arm too jagged and messy to be self-inflicted. He looks at you, and maybe it's the bruise on his cheek, or that desperate look in his eye, but you end up helping him out, helping him clean and wrap his cut with what meager supplies he has with him. He doesn't say anything, but he looks so grateful. 

 

Days later, you find him outside, sitting on the ground, holding a cut on his face. He looks up at you, brief recognition flashing in his chocolate eyes. 

You help him out, because he needs it. This time, he chokes out a quiet 'thanks' before disapearing. 

Days later, you place the strange feeling he gives you as affection. 

 

"Why do you hang out with him?"

Luke's a pain in the ass. You wish he'd leave you alone by now, but Luke just   
loves taunting you. 

"Because I know he's not a piece of shit like you." 

 

You see him with a black eye later, even though he tries to hide it. You should be pissed, but instead you're overwhelmed by this sick feeling. 

 

"It's not your fault."

You wish he didn't waste his breath lying to you when his ribs aren't letting him breathe right.

 

He stumbles into class late on Friday, passing a note to the teacher. His arms are bandaged and you can see them on his shoulders too. 

He practically collapses into his desk chair, breathing heavily. His eyes meet yours and the look he gives you scares you. 

 

When you talk to him after school, he breaks down and starts crying into your shoulder. You don't want to aggravate his injuries, so you stand there awkwardly. He doesn't seem to care though, he just let's it out, and you try and comfort him. 

Tomorrow his eyes are more alive looking. You feel slightly better. 

 

He looks down at his bandaged hands, before tucking his legs under his chin, wrapping his arms around himself. 

"I'm sorry," he tells you quietly, silent tears streaking down his face. 

You wrap your arms around him and pretend you don't hear him sobbing out apologies. 

 

When you throw the door to the hospital room open, he flinches. You stare. 

"Why?"

He looks down, like he can't stand looking at you. You take a moment to thank whoever's listening that Tylenol isn't enough these days. 

 

When he comes back to school, he stays close to you. Sometimes you'll feel him wrap his arm around your elbow, like he can't hold himself up. 

You see him after school without a single bruise. 

 

"Thank you."

You turn to look at him. He's rubbing his wrists, devoid of bandages for the first time in a long time. Instead, a sharpie butterfly lies on his wrist, something your friend Racheal would draw. It's sea-green and ocean blue, designs like a rolling tide. 

You smile at Nico, and he smiles back. It makes you feel warm, and you can't be bothered to explain why. 

 

His hand is smaller than yours, fingers more delicate. When he threads his fingers through yours, you feel like your holding something delicate and priceless, a piece of glass worth more than gold. 

You describe him that way too. 

 

"I love you."

He says it quietly, looking down with a light blush on his cheeks. The color is a beautiful contrast. 

You put a hand under his chin and he looks up. 

"I love you, too."

That smile makes you love him even more. 

 

You open the front door to find him soaking wet on your front porch. The rain falls down so hard you almost miss the tears. You pull him inside, only then seeing the bruises that twine up his bare arms. You hold him, leaning back against the front door while you hold him up. 

Later, when you're both on the couch, curled up in thick blankets, he tells you his dad found out about you two. 

 

Every kiss is a snowflake, delicate and unique. He tastes like rain and steel, and anywhere else you'd think it was weird, but when the both of you sneak off for some alone time, and he has arms around your neck, yours around his waist, you feel like you couldn't have lived your whole life without that taste on your lips. 

 

He looks down at his wrist with a frown. It's not as deep as he used to make them, it's hardly even bleeding, but the cut lies right over the faded butterfly. 

Later, he has another on the opposite wrist, a lot like the last one. He mouths a silent apology to you in class, and you take his hand under the desk. 

 

Later on, he lays his head on your shoulder and drifts off. His wrists fall in your lap, and you see the bandages. You frown, running your hands through his hair softly. 

 

He'd always been skinny, but it's ridiculous how thin now. He's not eating. He's not sleeping. He's cutting again. Every time he sees you, he looks down, and tries not to look you in the eye. 

Sometimes you just hold him and let him breathe, and it's so shallow you want to cringe. 

 

He disappears for about a week, and you get news that his father was arrested. You don't know how to respond at first. 

Then he's back in class, and he smiles at you, and you know how to feel. 

Fucking relieved. 

 

Later, you hold him while you both look up at the stars, and it's quiet and peaceful. He lays his head on your chest, and he's warm for the first time since you met him. 

"Hey, Nico?"

"Yeah Percy?"

You just wrap your arms around him tighter. 

"I'm glad I found you."

**Author's Note:**

> That was soooooo sappy. But, complete, I guess. Let's just pretent it's all nice and practical. Love <3


End file.
